


The Cursed and the Occult

by Kaz3313



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-10
Updated: 2019-10-10
Packaged: 2020-12-07 19:37:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20981264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kaz3313/pseuds/Kaz3313
Summary: A very odd man shows up to town and mysteriously someone who insulted him winds up dead. Meanwhile said man is an absolute disaster and has grown a crush on the rich angelic gentleman who invites him for dinner.





	The Cursed and the Occult

The people of the village, at least a small group one could call a mob, if mobs contained five people at any given time, were always looking for something. After Mr. Pinehill was found in his shop lying cold on the floor with two teeth marks on his neck, their goal was a vampire.

“Serves him right really. He was going around calling that new fella a poff and harassing him at his own home! No one cares ‘bout what you fancy these days unless it be the dark arts,” Cinder Gladwell told her washing companion Victoria. They meant every day, save the Sabbath (then they met at church instead), to discuss all that went wrong in their little town. Truth be told lots went sour but it always happens to people who deserved it. 

The new fellow had moved in under the pretense he “Needed to shake up the scenery a bit,”. He introduced himself as “Anothony J. Crowley, but barely anyone actually calls me Anothony so feel free just to say Crowely. Rather my last name and first name should be switched, don’t you think?” and when she asked what the J. stood for he made a few incomprehensible noises before stuttering out an apology that he had business to attend to. Strange man who swung his hips more than necessary and wore clothes that were on the tight side. Of course everyone has their own perculties. 

“ Didn’t Mister Pinehill also look up the bridesmaids skirts at Lesley’s, my milkman, not sure if he’s yours, wedding? He was a rather awful man even if he owned a rather nice florist shop,” Victoria said washing the fine linen in her hands.

“His wife grew all the flowers ; Poor widow. He may have been a cheating skank with half a brain but last I saw she was crying so much we might need to build a second arc!” Cinder replies.

“ I talked to her after it happened and learned she wasn’t crying about her husband. Nope, she is afraid the new man’s gonna run her outta business. She caught sight of his plants and cried they were the loveliest she ever saw and in less than a decade he’d surely run her dry of any customers; snuck a peak myself and she ain’t lying. The most gorgeous begonia's I've laid my eyes on,” Victoria closes her eyes reminiscing about what she saw. The begonia’s were probably the only start of all the lovely plants the man had but she wasn’t sure the names of all he had. The vivid blues, soft purples, fiery reds, and dark healthy greens were all incompsing in the garden and could rival a painting. 

“ I forgot he was going to open a shop too...ironic is it not? A bit of a conspiracy with what rumors I’ve heard,” Cinder says and smiles the sort of smile of one who would love to tell all but won’t without prompted.

“Pray tell, Gladwood! I’m on the edge of my seat!” Victoria prods at her friend’s shoulder.

“Well grapevine tells that he may be the one who did it,” She says and Victoria gasps.

“You think he could actually be...of that nature?” 

“Well he wears those glasses that are all dark that shield his eyes, perhaps to protect him from the sun? I’m not sure if Vampires have different kinds or eyes but I wouldn’t put it past ‘em. He wears a lot of black and Trish told me that Vampires are always in gloomy clothes. And I saw him buying loads of mice in the market saying he owns a pet snake. I say he bleeding ‘em dry in between feasting on people. So if I dare say I believe Mr. Crowely is vampuric” Cinder states which gets another gasp and a prod.

“Your silly. Vampires don’t like anyone’s company, human company that is. And he quite fancies that Mr. Fell. He’s dined at his house several evenings in a row. ” 

“ Fancies to suck his blood. Poor Fell, old man wouldn’t know what hit him.” Cinder puts her finished clothes in her wicker basket and gets up to leave.

“ But they dine! Vampires don’t dine,” Victoria reasons and Cinder tilts her head stopping for a second to process the fact.

“Maybe not then but maybe they fake dine? Either way he’s a fine man and as long as innocent people don’t get hurt then I won’t complain about anything. If he just sticks to the rude Mr. Pinehill then I personally wish that vampire safe from any and all harm, ,” With that Cinder left, returning home, and not fully convinced in either direction. She had no quarrel with Mr. Crowely but he gave vibes that weren’t exactly bad but not good either. Grey vibes were ones to be wary of as they were the most unpredictable. She’d be polite and smile but being a woman of caution she’d definitely keep a clove of garlic with her from now on.

Anthony J. Crowely was not a vampire but that’s not to say he wasn’t occult. Ties of his past were tightly woven with threads of the dark arts. He was mortal though, undeniabley so, he just has the unfortunate to be cursed being a shapeshifter. No not a werewolf; he may have long red hair but none of it was facial (whether that be from unlucky genetics or his curse was beyond him) and he wasn’t scruffy as werewolves often were. He couldn’t shapeshift into anything he chose either, his predicament was rather unusual. He could only turn into a snake. Sadly, once he turned into the creature the first time he couldn’t fully revert back into human. This left him with eye whites a bright yellow, partially colourblind, a craving for mice every other month, and a forked tongue. The reason the curse was placed on him or why it made him less than human was surely a mix of God and bad luck. A thought that creeped into his head after the ential curse was ‘maybe he couldn’t shapeshift into a snake but rather into a human’ which was a scary thought in itself but darkened when it made a little too much sense.

It didn’t matter anymore though- He’d moved here to start everything anew and not to make new enemies. Yes, it did look a tad suspicious that a man was found dead after insulting him the previous day but genuinely he had no idea what had happened. He was just the new gardener who bought one too many rodents and hid his eyes from sight. Anyway, everyone was an odd character in this town so he didn’t worry too much. And his goal at this moment was too know more about this character he’d been invited to dine with for an entire week.

Angelo Fell was a refined rich man but he was gentle and kind one too. He gave most of his wealth to provide the town well kept roads and general upkeep of town hall. The rest was used for a mansion, foods, a few other comforts, and a library. He ran the biggest library on the west side of the country. The biggest and the strictest (Crowley would also add the most beautiful but as beauty was subjective some would argue against the statement) ; he didn’t like his collection damaged in any way and he wasn’t afraid of banning anyone from using his generous services. Though when talking to him in casual you wouldn’t be able to detect a single vicious bone in his body. He almost emitted a beam of sunshine everywhere he went. He smiled at everyone he saw in the morning including the late Mr. Pinehill who was notorious for insulting the man within hearing distance.

Crowley still tried to grasp his head around why you’d be intentionally mean. Fell’s smile, even if he dons it often, could brighten an entire room (which was nice since his large manor was rather dim, windows were far and few between in here). His white curls emulated a cloud and if Crowely was brave he’d find they were as soft as one too. His nails were perfectly manicured and his clothes were immaculate save for a single dark stain found on his blue collar. His clothes were tailored to flatter his rotund body but not hide it. His fashion sense, though maybe too formal, even for someone of Fell’s class (or perhaps it was too much just because his formal, business casual, and casual were one in the same), brought every aspect of him into light. His cream coloured jacket in particular brought out his eyes. Oh- his eyes would make a Queen jealous. It’s the kind that is just as endless and mystic as the sea. Same blue colour too. His guest tried desperately not to get caught in, much to no avail. Crowley thanked that his glasses shielded his gaze from being noticed. 

“Dessert, dear?” Mr. Fell asks with a term that some would use as endearment but he uses for anyone he’s having a conversation with. Still Crowely feels his soul, or what was left, ache. It was sinful to be so selfish and covet the term just to be his yet he continues to yearn for the impossible. He’s so hung up on the single word he almost forgets that it followed a question directed at him.

“Dessert sounds fine; better have another glass of wine too,” Crowely reaches for the bottle but Fell has already decided that he will pour him another glass. What a perfect host, he thinks silently as Fell also brings out two slices of apple pie. He’s quite heavenly Crowely decides and a nickname, that would never be deemed appropriate, is made. “Thanks, Angel,” He slips out and his body goes still. That sentence was supposed to stay in his head.

“Oh, Angel? Why I’ve never heard Angelos shorted down to that before,” He grins that reveals nothing but platonic feeling (maybe more warmth but Crowley brushes aside that he always gave off that warmth) “ I quite like that, dear,”.

He really should’ve never accepted the invitation to dinner as he can hardly stand taking his eyes off of him for long enough to take a bite. Fell, on the other hand, didn’t notice his guests manners that could be construed as rude. Instead he closes his eyes bringing the bite to his nose and breathing in. Crowely, enamoured how meticulously the other eats, finds it rather easy to satisfy his hunger with eyes only.

Lust is a deadly sin But he ignores his mind in favour of watching the pie slowly shrinking. Fell’s, or rather Angel’s, lips are just likes sirens in that you can’t look away and are drawn to them like one in a trance. He wouldn’t mind drowning in them either. He shifts in his chair, pushing it forward and closing more distance between the two. Crowely blinks, trying not to forge this place. He settles the pie to be too sweet but the lips are to errotic. Surely the teeth would be a good middle ground but once he catches a glimpse of them he feels another finger wag and head shake. For just having a meal as well as three fourths of a piethe teeth were like his clothes. Perfect, glimmering white ,and stainless save for a splash of bright red.

-Wait. The apples weren’t that vibrant in colour?

Then his stomach drops as his enamored stare is ruined with noticing the sharpness of two front teeth. They could easily sink into pie, liver, or an unsuspecting neck. Realization floods faster than the sea crews who purposely wreck their boats on islands infested with man-eating creatures disguised as what you desire most.

“You haven’t even touched your dessert? Something the matter?” In these situations it’s best to delve back into the time you learned improve and mastered the art of lying.

“Mind bigger than my stomach; if you’d like, you can have the piece,” He pushes it to the center like when you throw a steak to a ravenging hound that hunted you down because the folks you grew up with deemed you to be fiddling with witchcraft. Little personal comparison and if he would’ve gotten a fair trial Crowely would have pointed out that someone fiddled with him. Then another would point out he was a willing participant. Theories of an alternate reality where he stuck around in the last town really shouldn’t be a focus at a time as urgent as this one.

“How kind of you… It’s lovely for you to come for dinner! I don’t get many visitors, save for when I hold the Annual Ball. When I tried to start a book club, only women joined and their husbands complained that I was trying to steal their wives away. I explained I just wanted to share the passion of books but they had none of it. Then when I tried to start a men's club with them their wives complained about the same thing! Like I’m going to whisk them all away. Victoria and Cinder come for tea every once and awhile but they’re very busy as of recent. I’m just relieved to have a friend and- Oh dear! It seems too late to ride home! How about you stay here tonight, I have many a room here and breakfast can easily be provided in the morning,” Fell rambles out.

“Too late?” He echoed hollowly as one does when they learn what kind of end fate chose for them.

“Yes, looking at my pocket watch the sun set long ago!Very unsafe for a carriage to get you home. Good thing all my rooms are well lit,”

“Uh, well that doesn’t work too well,”

“Why?”

“ I got a thing to do back home,”

“What would that be?”

“Well, yknow, it’s- when you have responsibilities. It’s when you uhhh,” Crowely glances around the room in search of any bit of inspiration but all the objects refuse to betray any ideas. Before he gave up all hope though his eyes travel his wooden chair and an idea makes it’s first sparks. Stakes were made of wood, right? It wasn’t that different? “When you have to go hunting for vampires,” He stands but before he can lift the chair a flash of unearthly speed has grabbed him around the waist. 

“Before you go and do something rash,” Fell whispered into his ear; it was unnerving that his teeth were so close but at the same time his close proximity and warm breath on his skin was intoxicating. He found it rather poetic that the man he wanted most since they first spoke would be his undoing. Maybe it was karma for being too focused on the beauty of appearance rather noticing that he was a vampire. “Just listen to me, alright? You’re rather smart otherwise you wouldn’t have figured it out so quickly. I’ve lived in this town for half a century and no one has suspected a thing. Unless...Oh dear, your an actual hunter aren’t you? I really have been found out ” The break in his voice cracked at his heart yet again but this time for a different reason (although it was connected in a way). He looks up and sees tears start to roll down the vampire’s cheeks. Promptly Crowley is released from his grasp.

“Please just...whatever you do...make it quick,” He shut his lovely blue eyes expecting not to open them again.

“A-angel,” He straightens the other’s collar and sees the two teeth marks hidden beneath(a thought in the back of his mind reminded him that “angel” would not be the best nickname for a vampire but another voice said he hadn’t protested it earlier) and that the stain on the blue collar matched with his wound “You could’ve killed me easily. Vampire Hunter or not,” He stays close, fear left his mind like how breeze passes someone’s hair.

“You’re a rather nice man, Crowely. I don’t harm anyone without good reason… and ” a sad smile takes over takes his features “And I might’ve taken a bit of a fancy to-” the word you quivers on his lips and Crowely can see it perfectly because he’s eyes are locked on them. Soft trembling lips- that a confession could so easily leave.

“ Let’s have another drink, since I’ll be staying the night ,” Crowely sits back in his chair and raises his glass.

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this awhile back. It should have multiple chapters but I'm not sure if I'll ever post them (or finish them).


End file.
